


Replacement

by Valiax



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Magic, One Shot, POV Second Person, Reader turns into character, Slight body horror but nothing extreme, Transformation, not quite a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 11:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valiax/pseuds/Valiax
Summary: If it's not broken, don't fix it,If it's damaged, replace it,But if the thing damaged is something grown attached to, secretly adores and loves... find something with no attachment at all...You'll do.





	Replacement

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween to those who celebrate it!
> 
> So this is a one-shot idea I came up with a few weeks ago and wanted to write it out. Granted, I am not very good with 1st person style stories so hopefully it's bearable enough to read. Transformations are a guilty pleasure of mine so for Halloween, I wanted to give it a nod to the world of Hollow Knight! 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a stupid idea.

They told you not to meddle around in and around the woods at night, especially in a area that used to once be a facility for some old forgotten testing of some sort. Yet your curiosity and willing to seek the unknown drives you to go past those locked gates, rusted with age and signs barely legible. It's dark out, adding to the uncertainty of what lays beyond the bend in the road with barely any moonlight to cast shadows off objects and shapes to guide by.

You continue, feet crunching along a forgotten gravel road the only sound you hear as it trails further into the old grove. The only way to see what lays beyond is a dinky little flashlight, just big enough to fit in a pocket. As you continue, following the road till you're sure it's exchanged gravel for mere dirt and patches of grass, the wind seems to pick up, moving through the leafless silhouettes of trees on the hills surrounding you. If you hadn't known any better, it would feel as if the very wind itself was breathing and it was breathing down your neck.

Every instinct switches on, telling you to turn back while you still had the chance. Curiosity instead shoves those instincts back down. This was for bragging rights after all! So taking in that breath of air, you push onward, the road makes a curve left around a hill. There might have been some sound behind you and glancing over your shoulder reveals nothing but ever increasing darkness. Cricket chirps, your brain surmises. Nothing more, not even a threat.

At last, though, your path leads you in front of a dark tunnel, the signs around it long since rusted away any possible warnings of what might lurk inside. It certainly looks old and after watching several people on videos explore abandon buildings, parks, facilities, you're just after the same thrill of discovery. So whipping out your cell phone, you take a quick video of the entrance. Better to remain silent to avoid getting caught and commentate over it later. You swipe your screen, catching the wallpaper screenshot of the game Hollow Knight, the game's namesake in black chains staring back at you with those orange eyes. Something about the character intrigues you, tragic backstories and all.

The video records for a good two minutes, using your flashlight to illuminate the the tunnel, the stonework.. the weird carvings on the archway. They look familiar, yet so worn with age, it's easily shrugged aside. Probably something not worth anything important.

Satisfied with the results, you pause the video to proceed inside, stepping over the crumbled concrete barriers. In doing so, the wind strangely picks up, and for a fleeting moment... you swore you hear a voice carried on that breeze of air. Turning back around, again you see no one as your flashlight beams across the path. Maybe it's just the echo of the tunnel giving to the illusion of a voice.

Whatever the case, it's enough to let the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you proceed inside, completely oblivious as the faded markings start to glow a pale white hue on the archway.

You continue into the tunnel, nothing more than an empty straight passageway cloaked in darkness. Maybe a stray puddle of water from some leak above but that was typical to a place long abandon. A foot steps in the edge of one such puddle and you're quick to shake your shoe to keep it dry. Deeper now you continue, the sameness of the tunnel is getting quite boring now. Just how deep was this facility? You ponder going back, and it finally dawns on you as the tunnel continues.

It's completely free of graffiti.

It was not uncommon to find abandon places and the place would have some tag here or there, but this tunnel was completely bare of any local activity that warrants such behavior. It's as if whatever laid within, either kept the intruders away enough to not even leave a spray can, or they were caught before the deeds could be done. Or maybe... you're the first person to step foot in this place in who knows how long.

And again, you feel that cool wind, echoing off the tunnel walls and with it, the sound of a voice. You pause in your steps, listening to the words. If it was words, it's in a language that sounds gibberish to you. Nothing you hear sounds coherent and yet, the voice, the words... they had purpose, focus. There's still time to turn back and leave with no consequences.

You decide while the wind still blows and that suppose voice continues to flow with it, you bring back out your phone to record the sounds, video tape the clean and empty tunnel. However, the moment you return to the main screen, you blink a few times in confusion.

The image of the Hollow Knight as they appear in the Temple of the Black Egg no longer appears infected and ragged. Instead, still hanging in those chains, the character is instead appearing as their Godmaster variant sprite, The Pure Vessel.

Clean, magnificent in their prime, yet still in the same position as the Hollow Knight sprite. Their empty, black eyes stare directly back at you, as if peering deep within your very soul. It's unsettling to say the least and out of habit, you turn your phone's screen off before turning it back on. The wallpaper returns back to normal, the way you had made it before.

Clearly, your nerves are acting up, the claustrophobic atmosphere now starts to get to you. Maybe it is time to leave. You turn back around, only to feel a sense of disorientation. Both ends of the tunnel looks the same, having walked in so deep you can't even see the moonlight from the outside. You stare back and forth, heart in the beginnings of picking up pace. So at random you foolishly pick on side and walk briskfully down the path. If it's the wrong way, well you could wait it out till morning and go back the other way.

The tunnel echoes off the sound of your footsteps, splashing into puddles on the ground. Maybe if you had paid attention, you would of picked up on the stirring of black seeping through the brown water, swirling from the disturbance. But this is not the time nor place to examine puddles. Surely by now you would of found a room or something other than expanse of tunnel. Just what exactly was being done down here?

Just when it feels like indefinite walking, at last you spot something in the darkness.

Pale light.

You think to yourself, it must be the police called out for a trespasser. Okay, sure you can take the charge, deal with the consequences of entering this place if it meant getting out.

"Hey! Over here!" You shout, waving your flashlight back and forth to get their attention.

But there is no sound, no voice to respond back. Just the light at the end of the tunnel, literally. Just the light and silence. You draw closer, almost eager before you find yourself sprinting and at last you hear a voice.

"_Here..._"

The voice sounds ethereal, whispery as it carries itself through the air. Like hearing the voice of an ancient being, beckoning you to approach and somehow, you can't stop yourself from sprinting closer.

The light grows in size and after what seems like forever now thanks to your heighten senses, you think you've finally reached outside. As the light dies away, you find yourself instead in what appears to be a domed room and the only light you see comes from your own flashlight reflecting off a puddle of water in the center, black in color.

Confusion grows alongside concern as there's no way past this chamber. So turning around you decide to return the way you came... and find the tunnel you just came out of completely gone leaving behind nothing but darkness. Now the panic starts to settle in, and you scramble against the wall, surely its there? You reach up, pressing a hand against the cold black wall, only to reel back as strange white markings glow. They look familiar, like you've seen them before somewhere that shouldn't exist. In fact as you walk closer to the wall, more markings appear and disappear as you move away.

You pull out your phone, intending to record the images. Whatever was being worked on down here was messing with powers they shouldn't have... and neither should you.

Sadly, you never get pass the front screen as you stare in confusion teetering on terror. Your wallpaper... the Hollow Knight... missing and only the background of the boss room remains. The black chains dangle, holding nothing in the image. At first you may think there's someone hacking your phone, toying with you with wallpaper edits. So you go to swipe the screen to unlock it, try to find some logical explanation.

Instead, your screen greets you with a silhouette of a streamline face in shadow, a pair of white glowing eyes starring intently back at you. From the speaker, you hear that voice and those strange words you can't understand. It starts off soft and climbs into a echoing thunder that you feel nausea in your mind. So in desperation, you try to turn off your phone, pressing the button down to turn it off. In doing so, you inadvertently unleash something else.

It happens too fast to react, a flash of white light blinds you, followed by something from behind. It's cold, wet, and it slams itself right into your back. You let out a gasp, dropping the phone to the ground and whip around. Nothing behind you, but the puddle in the center of the room is gone, dried up completely as you shine your flashlight on the ground. You even reach up to feel your back, noting the clothing feels damp but nothing more than possible sweat.

Then you go to reach for your phone, and your blood runs cold.

In the light, your right hand reaches to pick up the phone, only to stop momentarily, hovering above the now cracked screen. The tips of your fingers are black, and slowly begin to creep along each digit, seeping into your palm. There's a sense of pain growing from each finger tip and you find yourself unable to look away as one by one, the fingernails go so brittle, they chip away like dried twigs. You watch in silent horror as black ebony claws push their way out, long and slender.

Something burns in your chest, and you finally manage to pull your hand from the light, expecting it to be a fever dream of fear. The burning works its way up your throat, feeling something push and throb. It's enough to trigger a gag reflect and you fall to your knees, coughing till a wad of black goo spits out. You stare at it in shock, your mind trying to process what's happening to you only to feel that heat flip around and turn into icy chills.

  
"Help!" You scream, not sure if anyone is around to hear you but the mind is desperate and you cough again, more black ink like substance falling from your lips.

The flashlight goes back to your right hand, by now the black staining has completely engulfed the hand, reaching upwards on the arm. A great itching sensation overcomes the top of your hand and you find yourself trying to scratch it away with your other hand. Yet the more you try to relieve the itch, the more it intensifies. At last as you give it one more try, you can't do anything as skin practically molts away, peeling off in sections to reveal your hand black and shiny, hard and unyielding except for the joints where the sections of armor meet to allow movement, the claws now connected to the tips of the armored fingers as one piece.

This had to be a nightmare, and yet no amount of pinching or slapping yourself silly does the trick. You're getting a headache just trying to figure out a logical explanation.

Reaching up, your good hand pulls back with clumps of hair, easily pulled away like threads. You panic, stupidly reaching back up only to pull out more handfuls, only to stop as you feel.. something, no a pair of somethings, push against your skull. The pain returns, and you fall on your hands, the flashlight tumbles to the ground next to you as your body tenses up, feeling those bumps practically grow, hearing the sound of crunching echo inside your head. Your skin feels tight, and its harder to express yourself so the best thing you can do is shut your eyes but even as you do you can't escape the icy cold pain that grows from your center, spreading out into all four limbs.

You gasp for breath, feeling your chest tighten, squeezing yourself as if denying you more and more air the harder you try to breath. A cough and you let out a scream.

"AHHHH-...!"

You never expect your own voice to cut off even as you still feel air rush from your tightening mouth. Like a light switch, your voice has been turned completely silent. You try again, desperately taking in air into your freezing chest to scream again, only to be met with silence.

The sound of clothes ripping snaps your mind out of it, and you feel one leg kick away at loose fabric that was likely your pants. You can't feel your feet anymore, nothing but numbness remain, say for maybe one digit, or perhaps the foot itself minus toes. Certainly can't wiggle them in place. The pain continues to rock your body, more flakes of skin shed away, revealing more shiny black armor. In some delirious attempt, you reach out with one hand, feeling the armor now covering your arms, your eyes now focusing on them.

No, this wasn't just armor, it was organic as you feel the faint scratching of your own claws. This was shell. Carapace.

Another wave of pain breaks the moment of concentration and you feel your body tighten more. You want to scream out, thrash from the pain but as before, you have no voice to cry out. In fact, as you try to take in a breath, your chest barely responds. Desperate, you try again, and again... until at last your middle no longer moves to take in a breath. Strangely enough, you don't feel the pain of lack of oxygen. It's as if... you don't really need it anymore.

You reach up, only to jerk back onto the cold floor as you could only surmise as being pulled apart, particularly your neck and legs. It comes quickly, a strange stretching and gurgling sound, ransacking your mind briefly before returning to the lull crunching sound in your skull, the rips and tears of what you thought was fabric, turns out to be more skin ripping away to make room for that shiny black carapace.

Try as you might, it's difficult to stand back up even pass being on your hands and knees. The crunching in your head slows down at last growing more and more dull till all that remains of sound is the seemingly strange wind from nowhere. You try again to stand up, only to pause as something heavy settles itself on your shoulders. It's accompanied by the weight of something else pressing against your now thinned chest, invisible hands working to tighten something into place.

The last thing you feel, as if in cold irony to everything that's taken place, is the sensation of something soft and long drape over your back, flowing to each side of you in silvery waves.

It takes you maybe a minute to come back to your senses, the pain disappearing into feeling only a cold numbness that feels both alien and strangely familiar. You instinctually want to take a breath, only to draw in nothing and exhale nothing. Your head feels slightly heavier, yet you don't seem too bothered by it. After a few moments of silence, you try to speak again, jaw moving but no sound echoes off your tongue.

A shaky hand finally lifts off the floor, reaching for your face. Your heart.. if you still have a heart, feels like it stops the moment your changed hand touches the side of your face. It feels smooth, almost featureless. Careful, you raise your other hand, gingerly touching your face and feeling something akin to smooth porcelain. Clawed fingertips guide over your eyes, dipping into something surrounding them, raised away or your eyes have shrunken into something.

Slowly, you continue, your body now tensing up as you find a lack of ears, only more of the smooth features yet can still hear. No more hair do you feel, instead, your hands brush up against something... large. You become hesitant at first, unable to believe what you're feeling, till you push yourself to examine further.

Horns, a pair of thick horns that grew into a taper, the inside containing two pairs of prongs you feel till your arms can't reach further. Now you feel yourself tremble and returning to your phone, you have it still on long enough to view yourself in the camera. Once you do, despite the crack down the middle and poor lighting, you can't help but release a silent scream.

Starring back at you in that camera, is the Hollow Knight in their Pure Vessel form.

Yet, it wasn't them, not the character, it was you. You became the vessel, something completely impossible and yet here you are, watching as the void based creature in the video feed reflects the exact same motions as you do, even so much as to take a free hand to touch your face again. You observe the armor now adorning your shoulders and chest, gleaming white and silver. The White Palace cloak draped behind you shimmers in the faint light. You can't even see your eyes anymore, nothing but dark empty holes in the shell that's now your face.

Features made more apparent as the light filters in. Pale Light.

"_Vessel._" Came a voice from your left and you turn your head to stare back up, shock rippling from your core. It's him... the Pale King.

Standing by a revealed stone and shell adorn archway that wasn't there before, the Pale King stares you down, his light bringing out all the details of this chamber. Now you must be dreaming, the king can't be real, he's just a character from a game... a fantasy... a...a...

Kingdom. Your Kingdom.

Strangely, your mind feels hazy the longer you stare at the Pale King, seeking out his defining features. His eyes were focused only on you, appearing cold and indifferent. He barely takes a noticeable breath, as if trying to keep his focus on some task, peering through you like glass. Shimmering wings twitch behind him, as if hesitant. Finally, he lifts his head higher, holding out a hand with those white claws.

"_Stand._" He orders.

You continue to stare at him, half in disbelief, half in awe at seeing such a fictional character alive in the flesh. In fact his form takes you back so much that it never crosses your mind how your legs work against you, pushing yourself up into a standing position. Your cloak gentle falls around yourself, partly closed with only the chest plate revealing. By the time you realize that you stood up without thinking it, the Pale King silently approaches, only the taint tapping of his feet echoes in the chamber as he sizes you up despite your new height towering over your monarch.

He circles around you at a snails pace, head barely tilts up and down as if scrutinizing some piece of artwork. He pauses to your right, glancing down your arm and down to your hand, clawed fingers still clutching the phone. You manage to force a blink for yourself, eyes always on the king but now you find yourself unable to turn your head. It's as if some force was keeping you from following the Wyrm as he makes his judgmental gaze.

"_You won't be needing this anymore._" He whispers and raises one white hand, his larger, dragon like claws mere centimeters away from your hand. He hesitates again, and for a moment you barely hear the sound of something akin to a low growl, just slightly audible as you feel the device pull from your hand, the Pale King careful not to touch you.

He examines the device, whatever it is now, before placing it inside his robes. Now he can return back to the full examination. You can feel his cold gaze pierce through you yet you are still unable to turn and watch him. There might have been a moment where the king reaches up to touch your face, only to shrink back, remembering how he shouldn't even touch his handiwork. You barely think in your mind questions you want to ask, of course doing so only makes the mind even more hazy. Just stand to attention, that's what you're suppose to do.

"_Do you remember who you were?_" He probes with a question, watching for anything, something to tell him this was another failure, that what he had created was doomed to fail any second.

You want to nod, you can just make out in your mind what you're suppose to look like, but the harder you try to focus, the more that image blurs in your memory until finally.. it's fallen into darkness. Thus, you do not respond, unable to nod or shake your head, just stand still before the king and wait. It's better not to think at all.

The silence and stillness seems to please the pale monarch, though he'll never show it in front of you. After one more pass, careful in his steps and not to get too close to you, he seems satisfied with what stands before him, tucking his hands into his sleeves.

"_Follow._" He says, and turns to exit out the chamber.

Normally this is the part where you should hesitate, maybe even try to run away while you still can. There's only one exit, though, and you are powerless in stopping yourself from following behind. Only once do you free yourself long enough to gaze down at the flashlight on the floor, left to be abandon. A part of you wants to pick it up, which quickly dies out as you sense something churn within you. It's cold, unfeeling, and it's now every part of you as you are of it. Void.

Abandoning the light, you follow behind the Pale King, walking at a slow pace down some black corridor. Whispers of magic tingle in the air and you see the same similar spells of binding on the walls, etched like tapestries and glow with that telltale pale white hue. You continue, unable to pull your gaze away from the Pale King who silently continues to lead you down this strange dark path lit by binding spells.

Then, something strikes your nose, if you could call the end of your snout a nose. It's a sickening sweet smell, almost nauseating the more you inhale despite not needing to keep breathing. You want to stop, turn back now as the smell assaults you to the core. Yet no matter how much your mind barely lashes out to stop, your changed body keeps following and at last you and the Pale King are greeted with a faint weak light from inside another, larger chamber. He enters inside, and you have no choice but to follow inside as well.

When you enter, your empty eyes are unable to peel away from an exact copy of your own.

It's the Hollow Knight, the real Hollow Knight.

There they are, hanging by the black chains and still bound by a spell of Binding. They slowly look up and the moment their empty eyes peer into yours, you can feel their confusion wash over their being. Like seeing a mirror image, say for the differences that were obvious. The true Hollow Knight's armor was only partially tarnished, their cloak not yet fallen into tattered ends and soot black. Nor did they sport the obvious crack that should of been on their shell, or the deep orange glow from their eyes. No, in fact, they seem well intact for the most part, this must be a point in time before the infection reaches its peak. You sense that confusion turn into silent relief the moment their eyes lay on the Pale King.

The king glances back to you, then points to the chains. "_Remove them._" He instructs.

Again, you feel the urge to resist, to back away. This time, it's fleeting, your feet already approaching under the captive. You reach out, your hand finds the hilt of the knight's long nail, easily ripping it out from the cobblestone of the temple floor. Without a second thought, you raise the nail, half your senses pleading to stop this, that this was wrong on so many levels. All shrugged away into mind fog, forgotten in the dark as the nail strikes down, slicing the chains apart.

One by one, the chains detach, and the spell of Binding breaks over the Hollow Knight, allowing them to fall to the floor. It takes them a moment to regain their bearings, not wanting to move too much as the infection still lingers inside their body, pulsing hot in their center. Slowly, they look up, confusion felt through you. It's as if you can feel the other's thoughts, the two of you silently stare.

With some hesitation, the Hollow Knight stands to their feet, still starring at you. There's a slight head tilt, curious maybe, and you find yourself copying the same motion. A mirror image, almost. They raise a hand, shaking from their faint burning pain, testing you as you do the exact same, hand mimicking the other's motions.

"_Vessel._" Speaks up the Pale King and on cue the two of you turn to face him, perfectly synced.

The king glances between the Hollow Knight and you, then lifts a hand, pointing a claw towards you first.

"_Replace_." He whispers, and the Hollow Knight seems confused again, turning to look at you.

Your mind barely is alert enough to figure out what's going on, unable to command even the slightly twitch of your body. You can only watch as you turn to face your real counterpart, eyes silently starring into one another. There's a faint pull forming following the sound of something similar to a heart beat. It grows louder, pounding in your ears until the Hollow Knight suddenly flinches forward. You are unprepared.

A flash of orange invades your vision, burning hot and licking around the eye holes of your mask, seemingly being sucked into your very being with tremendous force. It comes swiftly, a blinding orange cloud plucked from the Hollow Knight, racing and pulsing into your own body. Once the final flickering signs of the Old Light disappear within you, you do manage to stagger back one step, feeling the burning clash against your now naturally cooler body. There's a pause in your actions as if waiting for something, then slowly, you stand back to attention, head lowered down to help contain the infection, now swimming within you.

The pulse continues to echo in your head, unable to detect the movement closing in, feeling hands grasp yours only to pull the long nail away from your grasp with no resistance. Your body barely trembles, trying to stay still to keep the burning down. You hear something, muffled voice trying to say something. You barely look up, seeing the Pale King with those cold, indifferent eyes stare back at you as he repeats himself.

"_Take their place, Replacement._" He commands, holding the long nail in his hands.

Despite the ebbing burning sensation in you, you do as you are told. No sense fighting it, this was, after all... your purpose. You were created to hold off the infection, to become a cage to contain it and free the people of this kingdom from the Old Light that plagues their dreams. Your feet shuffle towards the center of the temple, head still lowered. The Pale King follows, holding up his free hand and whispers some ancient spells in a language no bug would understand.

The ground rumbles at your feet, and the temple seems to come alive, black chains shooting downwards. Two fire from the ceiling, connecting to the loops on your pauldrons, a third wraps itself tightly around your body, forcing your limbs to press against your sides. You're unfazed by the chains, eyes completely empty as they stare back at the king while he continues the ritual. There's a hard tug by the chains and you feel yourself being lifted into the air, suspended as was the original vessel that once hung here. Soon as you're high enough, the chains and your being become wrapped in delicate white symbols and ruins. The Spell of Binding works its magic, pressing you further in your confides.

The Pale King stares at the results, giving you no sense of comfort or assurance. He takes the long nail in his hand, driving it back down into the cobblestone floor. He gives you one last look, making sure everything is perfect, not one flaw in this scheme.

"_You shall seal the Light that plagues their dreams, Replacement._" He responds at last.

Somehow, you're able to follow him with your eyes, head barely twitches to one side as you witness what occurs next. The Pale King has his back to you as he approaches a weakened Hollow Knight, still alive from the ordeal of passing on the infection. They look up to him, waiting for some explanation. Instead, the king merely gestures for the Hollow Knight to follow him, and the vessel stands if on shaky legs, following their king out with no protest.

As the pair exit out the temple chamber, you manage to watch through the corner of your eye and what you witness seems to shatter something barely a shard to begin with of your former existence.

The Pale King turns to his vessel, his Hollow Knight, gesturing for them to kneel. They do, nearly ready to bow only to pause as the king takes their face into his hands, stroking their cheeks before leaning in, pressing his forehead to the other, even so much as allow a few glimmering white godly tears fall as he reveals a real expression of love and worry. You can make out words of apology, that what was done was unforgivable as a father.

"_Forgive me my child, I did not wish for you to suffer... so I found a suitable replacement. You shall return to the White Palace with me as my heir. My loving child._" He whispers, continuing to give affection he had to withheld from seeing you earlier. You were too perfect a copy, something his parental wyrm instincts nearly flared up, wanting to dote on you, but logic stayed his hand so that no attachments could be made between you two.

The Hollow Knight responds back to their father with a hug, arms wrapped around the monarch's neck into a loving embrace, trying not to let tears slip from their own eyes, a fault of their impurity. But you, you are pure...

The original glances back up at you, and you can sense some form of pity from them. It's a strange concept, one you now easily shrug off at first. It only comes back when the Pale King motions for the pair to leave this temple and properly seal it away. You watch in silence the light emitting from the king slowly start to fade until finally you are left in the dark. That's okay, you were created for this task, this was and will be your eternal fate.

If only you could stop the flow of black tears now seeping from your mask's eyes, streams of orange floating alongside the black, never mixing or blending together as the last remnants of your original mind steps forth long enough to weep from this fate, only for it to be swallowed up by darkness not even the Radiance could bring back forth.

Created from God and Void, you are the new vessel, the new Hollow Knight... the Replacement.


End file.
